


ballade de l'océan

by coinseller, ElysiumDreams



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Historical Inaccuracy, Love Triangles, M/M, Romance, Titanic AU, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-21 06:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coinseller/pseuds/coinseller, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElysiumDreams/pseuds/ElysiumDreams
Summary: For Jihoon, the RMS Titanic is a prison. For Guanlin, it is a ship of dreams.Theirs is a love story doomed from the start.





	1. Day 1: Overture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NAME A MORE ICONIC DUO THAN ELYSIUMDREAMS AND COINSELLER, WE'LL WAIT SKDLJFDSFkl
> 
> (ElysiumDreams: Jihoon's POV / Coinseller: Guanlin's POV)

The first thing that Jihoon notices as he steps aboard the Titanic is the fresh breeze of the ocean as it hits his skin. It feels so refreshing, as if it’s the first time stepping out into the open in what feels like ages. Perhaps the breeze is a metaphor for how this trip should make him feel—new, happy, and optimistic.

 

He feels the exact opposite, however.

 

The second thing that Jihoon notices is how that fresh air seems to be polluted with the atmosphere upon the boat, one of rich aristocrats and spoiled socialites, all of those lucky enough to even step foot on a ship as prestigious as this one.

 

Of course, Jihoon is one of these people. But he wishes he wasn’t. Sure, it’s nice. Never in his life has he had to struggle financially, nor has he ever had to worry about his future. Wealth and fortune is practically guaranteed to him, simply because of the family he had been born into.

 

Still, wealth would never be enough to make him happy.

 

As he steps on board, his eyes scan the deck, taking in his surroundings. Right now, it’s mostly crowded with other elites that are struggling to find their way to their rooms, others who have already comfortably settled on board. The multitude of people makes him feel slightly claustrophobic and he squirms, making a face as he closes in on himself.

 

And then he feels a hand on his waist, snaking firmly around it. It’s meant to be comforting, but Jihoon only tenses further with the action. He looks up, and there at his side is Kang Daniel, smiling assuredly at him.

 

“I’ve got you,” he says, as if he can sense Jihoon’s discomfort. A long time ago, his words would’ve been comforting, but not anymore. Now, they’re just suffocating.

 

“I’m okay—” Jihoon attempts to dismiss him, but Daniel’s attention is drawn elsewhere, as a shrill, loud voice suddenly chimes in.

 

“There you are—!!” he recognizes his own mother’s voice immediately, and he watches as she pushes her way through a crowd, ignoring the looks the other passengers give her as she tidies up her outfit. Behind her is his father, and they both offer scarily wide smiles to them.

 

“There’s so many people, we lost the two of you as soon as you stepped on board,” his mother says, clinging to her husband. It’s almost embarrassing the way he mirrors her exact position as his father hooks an arm around her waist too and brings her close.

 

“Don’t worry,” Daniel replies before Jihoon can get in a word. “I found him before anything else could happen.”

 

And his mother sighs, as if Daniel has just told her that he’s a prince that’s saved Jihoon from an evil dragon (and with her reaction, he might as well have, Jihoon thinks). She practically swoons as she smiles at Daniel.

 

“My… Jihoon, you really are lucky to have a fiancé as caring as Daniel,” she says. The word makes Jihoon’s brows crease.

 

 _Fiancé_. The word is meant to be romantic, and promise, but to Jihoon, it only feels like he’s involuntarily signed his life away to someone that he hasn’t even chosen for himself.

 

Now, Jihoon doesn’t hate Daniel. Far from it, actually. Daniel has been there for him longer than he can even remember. When he was at an elementary age, Daniel would be there for him after his studies and bring him outside to play. Their families would have dinner parties together, and Jihoon always made sure to sit beside Daniel back then, so that they could take turns feeding their food to Jihoon’s family dog. Heck, Jihoon had even been the first person that Daniel had told that he liked men. Back then, it hadn’t been a big deal to Jihoon. But when he had found out that it was him that Daniel liked… Well, that was when things started to become more complicated.

 

And then, on Jihoon’s 20th birthday, his parents told him that he was betrothed to Daniel, and things took a turn for the worst.

 

 _Fiancé._ The words mere existence makes Jihoon want to throw himself off the side of the boat, especially as he looks up at his so-called fiancé, who beams at his mother’s praise.

 

“If you like him so much, why don’t you marry him,” Jihoon quips as he rolls his eyes.

 

“Watch your mouth young man,” his father suddenly speaks, an angry look in his eyes. “You may be an adult now, but we are still your parents, and you will treat us with respect, especially after we’ve gifted you an engagement present as extravagant as this.”

 

He gestures around himself, at the Titanic, and Jihoon resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

 

“There are plenty of people who would kill to be in your position, Jihoon,” his mother says. “Be grateful.”

 

Jihoon just smiles fakely, then lets his eyes wander elsewhere, watching as the deck finally begins to clear as people start to find their own quarters. Daniel’s hand tightens around his waist a little, but he pretends that he hasn’t noticed, pursing his lips as his neck burns red.

 

“Now,” his mother speaks again, “Get your things and find your room. Tea time is in an hour, and I expect to see you both there.”

 

Jihoon bows to his parents out of respect before he walks away with Daniel in tow, his arm still tight around his waist as they drag their luggage’s along with them.

 

Their room is surprisingly nice, Jihoon thinks when they arrive. It’s cozy and warm, and it’s spacious enough for just the two of them, which… Is a problem, Jihoon thinks.

 

He had been hoping for some space. Space to be alone when he needs to be (granted, the ship is huge, he’s sure he’d be able to be alone at least once in a while during the trip), space so he can breathe within this already suffocating atmosphere.

 

But he shares a bed with Daniel, and other than the bed and a small wardrobe in the corner to hang their nicer outfits, the room feels too small for Jihoon’s liking.

 

As Daniel settles, lying over the bed and resting his hands behind his head, Jihoon sits at the edge of it, staring down at the floor.

 

He wonders how he’s actually going to survive this trip. Twenty days stuck at sea with Daniel and his parents… Jihoon is already dreading every second of it. To make matters worse, when they finally reach land, they’d be far from home, starting a new life in an entirely different country. Jihoon would probably never see his friends back home again. His closest friends, like Woojin, Jinyoung, and Daehwi… His heart already aches when he thinks of how far they would be from him.

 

And then there’s Daniel, and if there’s one word Jihoon would use to describe what this trip means to him, it _opportunity._

 

That’s exactly what this trip is to Daniel. An opportunity to try and win Jihoon’s heart, to make him fall for him before their inevitable marriage, because let’s face it, marriages are not fun when you’re marrying someone you don’t love.

 

But Jihoon thinks it’s pointless. In his twenty years of life, Jihoon has never been in love with Kang Daniel, and a silly engagement present in the form of a luxury ship vacation wouldn’t change a thing.

 

 _Is it too late to jump overboard?_ Jihoon thinks to himself, chuckling under his breath at his own suggestion. No… It would be best to just enjoy this as best as he can…

 

“Jihoon?” Daniel speaks, his voice breaking Jihoon free from his thoughts. He turns abruptly, looking towards his friend. He’s sitting up now, leaning against the headboard as he shoots Jihoon a questioning look. “Everything okay? You’ve seemed out of it since we left this morning…”

 

Jihoon wants to laugh in his face because, no, everything is not okay. But he can’t tell Daniel that, and even if he does, it’s not like it even matters. He can go against Daniel all he wants, but it’s parents that keep him silent about how he really feels.

 

Jihoon purses his lips before offering a gentle nod and a smile at Daniel. “Yeah… I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.”

 

“About what?” Daniel asks, crawling forward a little, placing a hand atop of Jihoon’s where it rests on the bed. “You know you can tell me any—”

 

“ _Don’t_ —” Jihoon says abruptly, ripping his hand out of Daniel’s. Daniel looks at him incredulously as realization hits him, realization of what he’s just done. Jihoon looks down shyly, biting his lip in embarrassment. “Sorry…”

 

Beside him, Daniel looks disheartened, but other than the fact that Jihoon is just _really_ good at reading his friend’s feelings, he doesn’t show it, still offering a smile as he nods in understanding.

 

“It’s okay,” he replies, bringing his hand back to his lap too. “It’s okay, let’s just… Let’s just take a nap before we have to leave for tea soon, okay?”

 

Jihoon can’t lie, a nap does sound nice right now. Especially after the long struggle to find their room and settle in. He smiles gently at Daniel before crawling up the bed and pulling back the covers, tucking himself in and snuggling comfortably into the pillows, facing away from his fiancé.  Behind him, he can sense Daniel’s hesitance, like he’s trying to decide whether or not he should hold Jihoon as he sleeps. Jihoon tenses a little, steadies his breathing as if being silent will help him decide.

 

Eventually, he feels arms wrapping around his waist, and he sucks in a shaky breath, letting it out in the form of heavy, exasperated sigh. Daniel’s a heavy sleeper, so he falls asleep just like that, with Jihoon in his arms. And with choice but to simply endure it, Jihoon simply closes his eyes, pressing his cheek against the soft pillows and allowing himself to fall into a well-deserved rest.

 

 

 

 

 

When it’s finally tea time, Jihoon finds that the ship’s deck has finally cleared for the most part. There are no longer passengers scrambling about to find their quarters. Instead, everyone shuffles about with curiosity, as if they are eager to discover every nook and cranny of the ship, everything that she has to offer.

 

Jihoon isn’t at all interested in that. In fact, as soon as he wakes from his nap, he wants to go back to sleep again, even if that means enduring Daniel’s arms around him. But Daniel wakes him exactly thirty minutes before they are to meet his parents for tea. He yawns and frowns, but ultimately gets up and gets ready to go, fixing up his hair, lest his mother say something about it being untidy later on.

 

Daniel leads him through the halls again. His fingers itch to push the hand on his hip away, but he endures it, just as he always does, deciding to explore the ship with his eyes instead. They walk through extravagant corridors and halls, ones that Jihoon had absolutely no clue could even belong on a ship. In particular, the grand staircase that they pass on the way to the dining saloon. It’s immense in size, overwhelmingly gorgeous, and Jihoon can understand why this ship has caused such a buzz lately.

 

Even so, he’d much rather be back home than walking its’ decks.

 

When they arrive, Jihoon is surprised to find that the atmosphere in the dining saloon is surprisingly relaxed. There aren’t many people in the room, but the ones that are there have quiet conversations within their party as they sip their afternoon tea. Jihoon guesses that everyone is still too busy exploring, and that’s why it’s so empty right now.

 

His parents sit in the very middle in the room. Jihoon isn’t surprised, they’ve always enjoyed being at the center of attention, he thinks.

 

They spot him not longer after he sees them, but Jihoon swears that their faces brighten when they see Daniel on his arm. He resists the urge to roll his eyes as they approach, bowing politely to greet them.

 

“You’re just in time, sweetheart,” his mother says. “They’ve just brought out our tea.” She then gestures to a rather fancy-looking teapot that’s set in the middle of the table, the spout still steaming with heat. Jihoon smiles softly before taking a seat, sandwiched between her and Daniel.

 

Daniel reaches out for the teapot before anyone else can, and then proceeds to fill everyone’s cups with the piping hot tea. This _thrills_ his mother, who whispers something about Daniel being such a gentleman, but Jihoon simply ignores it, raising his cup delicately to take a sip.

 

“Careful, Jihoon, it’s still hot,” Daniel warns, but Jihoon doesn’t care. He sips the hot liquid quickly, feeling it burn down his throat. It’s not a pleasant feeling, and he makes a face that he’s certain is far from attractive.

 

“Don’t act a fool, Jihoon,” his father warns. Jihoon blinks in surprise and is about to protest before he decides to just stay silent, slumping against the back of his chair. Tea time was meant to be relaxing, Jihoon thinks, but so far it’s been anything but.

 

“So have the two of you had the time to look around the ship yet?” his mother asks. “There’s a lot of great things. A library, a gym, a squash court… Not to mention they have a lot of events happening throughout the trip. You packed for the ball in a few days, right Daniel?”

 

Beside him, Daniel nods. He’s smiling so brightly that it’s almost blinding, and he holds his teacup just as he had been taught to do so, one hand holding the small platter underneath and the other grasping at the handle of the cup, pinky out. “I did. I’m looking forward to it, I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful event.”

 

Jihoon frowns. He hates when Daniel is like this. Daniel used to hate being obedient, used to hate this life of luxury just as much as he did. _Fake,_ Daniel had once said, using the word to describe their lifestyle, as the two of them swung from trees after a long dinner between their families. They’d go home with stains on their breeches, and try not to laugh when their parents scolded them for it later.

 

He wonders when all of that had changed. Now, Daniel embodies everything that he hates about this lifestyle. From the way he talks, his mannerisms, his actions… It’s like Jihoon doesn’t know him anymore. This isn’t his friend Daniel, but someone that he wishes to forget.

 

“You and Jihoon will look stunning together,” his father comments, smiling to himself.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Daniel replies, beaming with the praise. “I’ll be a good husband for your son, I promise.”

 

Next to him, his mother smiles, then casts a sideways glance in his direction. “I’m glad to hear that… Maybe you could teach Jihoon some manners too.”

 

Jihoon almost slumps further down into his chair, but he keeps from doing so, just so his parents won’t find another silly reason to berate him. He just wants to sink into the floor, sink into the waves that keeps this very ship afloat. Mentally, he counts the seconds until it’s time for him to go back to his quarters and sleep the night away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Guanlin stands aboard the Titanic and the first thing he feels is an overwhelming sense of anticipation.

 

He’s excited, just as much as he is nervous.

 

The broad, open sea stretches out for miles ahead of him, and it’s intimidating because he isn’t too sure what to expect during his next twenty days aboard this cruise, yet at the same time, he’s thrilled. Being aboard the Titanic is surreal to him and it’s astonishing. This is the ship of dreams—the ship that would bring Guanlin one step closer to _his_ dream. America; the land of opportunity and his ticket to accomplishing his lifetime goal of becoming a pianist— _a composer._

 

 _“Wow,”_ Guanlin suddenly hears his best friend, Seonho, whistle. The shorter boy positions himself right next to Guanlin and he throws an arm over his shoulder, nodding in disbelief. “We’ve got to be the _luckiest_ men in the world,” He breathes.

 

Guanlin agrees. _They were lucky_. Just yesterday, he and Seonho were living from paycheck to paycheck; taking up any job they could get their hands on just to survive in the nefarious slums of London. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs and each other; it was them against the world. But they were fighters. They stayed optimistic; taking life and its hardships as it came at them and overcoming their every misfortune. And by the end of the day, they always managed to pull through, but not without the help of hard work, sheer determination, _a bit of sweet talk_ , and, of course, luck.

 

"This place is incredible,” Seonho grins, basking in the atmosphere of the deck. “We're going to be living like kings!"

 

Guanlin laughs. "Last time I checked, kings didn't have to serve tables."

 

"Let a guy dream, yeah?" Seonho punches him lightly. Guanlin responds with a chuckle and Seonho shrugs, "Still, in comparison to where _we’ve_ been, this is the closest thing to nobility as we're going to get."

 

"I suppose you’re right," Guanlin smiles.

 

They pause, taking in the air and surveying their surroundings. While they joke around and talk light-heartedly of the Titanic, deep down, they’re both scared. Despite having been through Hell and back together, this, by far, has had is the craziest thing that they've ever done. They were leaving everything they knew behind; sailing off to an unknown land with nothing but a few dollars in their pockets and a dream.

 

"Thank you for coming with me," Guanlin whispers after a few moments. "You didn't have to agree to this when I asked, but you did. And I can’t imagine how hard it was to decide to leave England all because I wanted to become a composer, but—"

 

"Excuse me?" Seonho cuts him off.

 

Guanlin quiets and blinks confusedly at his friend.

 

"Of course, I'd come with you! Are you stupid?” Seonho jabs Guanlin on the chest with his finger, his eyes narrowing into slits. “ _Your dream is my dream_. Guanlin, we're practically brothers. We’ve gone through everything together and I'm a little offended that you'd think I’d even _hesitate_ about something like this. I’d travel to the ends of the world with you if asked. And besides, there’s nothing left in England. _For the both of us_. So, don’t get too full of yourself; I’m not doing this for you only. _I_ have a few plans of my own once we arrive in America," He adds with a cheeky smirk.

 

And Guanlin can’t help but to smile. He grasps at Seonho’s hand and they squeeze each other’s fists reassuringly. “Thanks, Seonho. Really.”

 

Seonho rolls his eyes, chuckling, and he pulls his friend into a half-hug. "Yeah, yeah."

 

 

 

 

 

After scurrying about for a while, the pair finally makes their way to their sleeping quarters, and there they find a small room with only three beds and a sink. Regardless of size, however, this is easily the best living condition he and Seonho have been in, and they’re elated once they step in through the door.

 

"DIBS ON THE TOP BUNK!" Seonho instantly yells. He tosses his luggage up onto his bed and launches himself up the ladder in one jump before Guanlin has the chance to reply.

 

He snickers, "Fine. But don’t get too comfortable just yet. We're needed on the F Deck ten minutes."

 

"For what?" Seonho asks with a bread roll suddenly in his mouth.

 

For a second, Guanlin wonders where he got the roll, but he knows better than to question it. "I don't know, it’s some sort of tour around the ship. Remember? They mentioned it when we first arrived."

 

At the sound of that, Seonho slips under his blankets and makes himself comfortable. “Sure.” Is all he says.

 

Guanlin shakes his head amusedly and decides to spend this time to open his trunk. Inside he finds his only two changes of clothes, a pen, stacks of staff paper, and a folder. He picks up the said folder and begins to flip through it. He makes sure he hasn’t forgotten anything and sighs in relief once he realizes everything is there, because inside this folder is the composition he's been working on— _his life's work_. And although it’s incomplete, Guanlin knows that without a doubt, it was going to be spectacular.

 

He’s made a few compositions here and there, but nothing could rival the amount of work he has put into this song. He needs it to be _everything_ ; beautiful, captivating, and, above all, emotional. But as of recently—or rather, the past few months—the song has remained incomplete.

 

Guanlin looks over his composition, finding every blank space stained with countless numbers of scribbles and frustrated notes. It’s drenched to the corners with murky, black ink, and just looking at it makes him feel as though he is staring into a never-ending abyss of nothingness. It’s a metaphor, Guanlin thinks; a spiteful reminder of his current lack of ideas and how absolutely uninspired he is.

 

Suddenly the door opens and in walks a shorter man who appears to be in his late twenties. Guanlin assumes he is their roommate, and he’s right when the man says, "Good afternoon, I take it you’re the boys who’ll be bunking with me?"

 

"Yes,” Guanlin confirms. He stands and offers his hand to the other. “I'm Guanlin."

 

"Seonho!”

 

"Jisung. Head chef." He shakes Guanlin's hand and looks up to Seonho. "Is that a bread roll in your mouth?"

 

"Yup,” Seonho chirps.

 

"From… outside the boat?"

 

" _Yuuup."_

 

"How did you sneak it past inspection?"

 

Seonho hums and a smirk spreads across his face. "I have my ways."

 

Jisung blinks for a few moments, letting that sink in. Guanlin thinks that the man ultimately decides to ignore it, because he then turns to look at both of them, pointing out, “I don’t think I recognize either of you and I’ve been working with the White Star Line for years. Are you new waiters?” He lightly tugs at Guanlin’s suspenders and inspects them with a confused expression on his face. “You two look like you’ve just rolled out of the slums…” He murmurs, dotingly brushing Guanlin’s shoulders and rubbing a bit of dirt gathered at his fingertips.

 

He hears Seonho snort amusedly and Guanlin affirms his suspicions, chuckling, "We did, sir."

 

Jisung’s eyes widen. "Really? Then how did you boys get this job? Do you even have the work experience to be here?"

 

“I was lucky enough to come across an application. We submitted it and were accepted at the interview,” Guanlin explains. “But, now that I think about it, it felt more like an audition at the time... _I mean_ , they still made sure we knew basic serving etiquette and everything, which we do,” He promises. “Seonho and I have been around, and we’ve had our fair share of odd jobs. So I’d say we’re qualified.”

 

Jisung hums, thinking out loud. "It’s no surprise the two of you made it. The rich tend to like looking at pretty things." There’s a look of concern in his eyes—protectiveness maybe—something sympathetic and warm, but Guanlin isn’t too sure what it is yet. Jisung then murmurs, "Get out of these rags and get changed into your uniforms, kids. I'll be leading the tour around the Titanic in five minutes. I'll meet you two on the F deck."

 

 

 

 

 

Guanlin and Seonho meet a portion of the serving staff already waiting at the F Deck wearing their uniform white dress coats, black bow ties, and black dress pants. They’re a bit late, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung who shoots them a mildly annoyed glance which the boys respond to with an inaudible _‘Sorry!’_

 

He clears his throat and announces, “Now that everyone’s here and accounted for, let’s begin this little tour. We only have a few hours until dinner, so let’s make haste.”

 

The entire tour takes about two hours, which probably could have taken only half the time if Jisung didn’t delve into every single detail about each room. They start from the F Deck and make their way upwards, going through every dining room and other facility they may find themselves in during their stay on the Titanic. Amongst other things, Jisung tells them where they’re allowed to go, and where they are forbidden from entering. He tells them of staff shortcuts—places they can walk around without disturbing the passengers aboard the boat—and other information useful to their jobs.

 

But Guanlin is only half paying attention.

 

Instead, he finds himself absorbed with every detail of the ship’s interior design. As they climb up the levels, the Titanic becomes progressively more dreamlike. The third class is already far more beautiful than what he is used to, and the second class levels are even more so. When they finally make their way into the first class, Guanlin is in awe because every room is luxurious, like a castle out of a storybook.

 

They continue to ascend and Guanlin counts four grand pianos along the way, now adding fifth once the group reaches the dining saloon.

 

He gazes at the magnificent Steinway sitting in the far corner and taps his fingers at his sides, vaguely moving them as though he were playing an invisible piano. He’s bored and already dozing off before Jisung begins lecturing on the division of tables between each server, when suddenly his eyes land on a small group of people sitting in the center of the room conversing over tea.

 

It’s then that Guanlin swears he can hear the climax to the finale of Tchaikovsky’s Fantasy Overture, because amongst those people is a boy. A boy so beautiful that Guanlin almost forgets that he needs to breathe. And when he starts to feel his lungs squeeze, he finally exhales with a hushed, _“wow.”_

 

The boy looks like a porcelain doll—perfect in every way—with full, red lips, a delicately curved nose, a sharp jaw, and clear, dark eyes that shine even from where Guanlin is standing across the room. Time seems to stop when Guanlin’s heart seizes in his chest. His mouth drops open and he’s at a complete loss for words, unable to conjure up any thoughts asides from how absolutely stunning this person is and the fact that he couldn’t get himself to turn away.

 

But it’s suddenly that Guanlin notices something in these dark, beautiful eyes that looks almost… _sad_. The boy stares out the window with a sharp gaze, looking at it as if wanted nothing more than to jump out and escape. But he’s trapped. Caged by the people at his side and bound to his chair by invisible chains. Guanlin catches a light in the boy’s eyes that flickers like a spark. It’s moments away from erupting into a fire, but the woman next to him says something that dims the light, and the boy continues to sit stiffly in his chair.

 

“You have fine taste, my dear friend,” Seonho suddenly hums right next to him.

 

Guanlin forces his eyes away from the boy and he’s greeted back into reality by a sly, Cheshire-like grin; plastered to the face of his close friend.

 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Guanlin stammers, flushing pink and averting his eyes elsewhere.

 

But Seonho has already caught him and he laughs, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “He’s fine, but rather expensive _,_ don’t you think?” Seonho adds, winking.

 

Guanlin heats up even more and he hangs his head down low, which only causes Seonho to laugh even harder.

 

Soon after, Jisung ushers the group to move along, and Guanlin takes one last look at the boy, wondering what his story is and why someone as perfect as he holds such sadness in his eyes. But Guanlin doesn’t get to think on it much longer when Seonho sighs, grinning, _“Come on.”_ And he leads Guanlin away.

 

 

 

 

 

Guanlin’s first night of serving dinner goes splendidly, which is expected because waiting is easy. He’s done it before and he’s quite used to it by now, but this time, he notices, the stakes feel considerably higher. It’s almost intimidating in a sense. There’s a constant pressure that weighs on his shoulders, and all throughout the night he can’t seem to shake it off, but Guanlin manages to appear poised. Because if he’s learned anything from his past jobs, it’s that appearances mean everything, and learning to adapt is key to his survival.

 

Guanlin is thankful that dinner is served with complimentary piano music. It helps him to get into the swing of things, moving his fingers deftly as if he were the one who was playing rather than stuck here serving food; pouring endless bottles of champagne for the first class aristocrats.

 

His every action is swift and graceful, precise with years of practice backing him up. He keeps one arm behind his back and a pleasant smile glued to his face; speaking only when he is spoken to and dutifully attending to every wish of each guest he serves. Guanlin blends perfectly into the background of the dining room just as he is supposed to. Because to all of these elites, he is nothing more than furniture.

 

While the idea is somewhat degrading, Guanlin is more than used to it. Besides, _it’s not all bad,_ he thinks. The lack of attention provides him with a bit of privacy so he can think on his piano composition. He hums new verses under the buzz of everyone’s consistent chatter, and sometimes even walks into the kitchen to scribble down notes onto a napkin that he securely tucks away into his back pocket.

 

He still finds the time to eavesdrops every now and then; listening to each aristocrat and wealthy passenger gossip about everyone aboard the Titanic. Guanlin finds their petty rumors amusing. He hears scandals of the wealthiest man aboard the ship, who is seemingly sitting near the center of the room, and he hears talk of a woman who recently struck gold and how obnoxious her personality apparently is.

 

There were many other notable mentions, but Guanlin pays them no real mind. He instead keeps his ears peeled for the mention of a particular name, or a description that would possibly lead him to discovering the identity of the boy he saw earlier today. But, unfortunately, he never hears nor sees him during this first evening aboard the Titanic. And for some reason, it makes his heart sink a little in his chest.

 

Once the last passenger leaves to join the rest of the first class in the smoking room, Guanlin finally takes a breather and slumps back in a skewed chair; pulling at his bowtie and loosening it around his neck.

 

Seonho plops down right next to him and does the same.

 

“That went better than I anticipated,” Guanlin says to Seonho. “Do you think we can pull through for another nineteen days?”

 

“I don’t know, but I’m starving,” Seonho groans, burying his face in his hands. “Do you think Jisung will let me walk out with any of the leftovers?”

 

Guanlin laughs. “Not sure. But I know you’re probably going to steal some anyway even if he says no.”

 

Seonho smirks they share a low-five. “Right you are, my dear friend.”

 

Soon enough, his day comes to an end and Guanlin finds himself sitting in his bunk. The sound of Seonho and Jisung’s snores fill their quiet room and overpower the scratch of Guanlin’s pen as he scribbles away at his staff paper, trying to put together a few verses to his piece and attempting to hear the sound of the piano in his head. But, ultimately, he scraps his ideas; crumbling the blackened napkins and tossing them into his luggage. He is going to have to find a way to get his hands on one of those five pianos, but, unfortunately, that would have to wait for another day.

 

With that conclusion, Guanlin eventually finds sleep, but not without a few fragmented ideas for his composition and the memory of a beautiful boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **ElysiumDreams:** Hello to all you lovely Panwink shippers out there, it’s me, ElysiumDreams, and I’m here with your Panwink queen to bring you this piece of work that we’ve both been working really hard on (and by that, I mean mostly Penny because she’s been doing everything while I just fall asleep on her oops). But aaaaah I’m really excited that we’re finally able to present this to you! I hope you enjoy it lots.
> 
>  **Coinseller:** :0 oh my god i cant believe im writing a fic with elysiumdreams u guys wTF LIKE IM SWEATING SO HARD!!!! SHE IS LIKE MY FAVE AUTHOR EVER AND /SOBS INTO MY HANDS!! ITS SUCH AN HONOR OMGG!!! SHES SO CREATIVE WTF IM SO BLOWN AWAY BY HER!!!! IM SO EXCITED TO BE WORKING ON THIS!!! dude we put so much heart into making the entire outline together uwu like we sat up for NIGHTS outlining this shit!! ITS GONNA BE SO GOOD IM SO HYPED TO GET IT ALL OUT ALREADY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA DOES IT BOTHER U GUYS TO KNOW THAT WE WROTE EVERYTHING IN COMIC SANS SKFJSKDLf :0 anyway ;u; i hope i was able to write seonho well esp since i've never watched p101 LOLOL caelin actually gave me a lesson on seonho one night when we were working on this so im pretty much a seonho Expert now B-) aklsjflks LOLOL anyway, I HOPE U GUYS ENJOYED!!! WE'D LOVE TO HEAR UR THOUGHTS!!!! :D


	2. Day 2: Rapsody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ElysiumDreams: Jihoon's POV / Coinseller: Guanlin's POV)

Jisung wakes Guanlin and Seonho up bright and early the following day, flicking on the lights to their shared quarters with a far too peppy, _"Rise and shine, kids!"_

 

Guanlin and Seonho groan simultaneously, coiling in on themselves and burrowing deeper within their blankets. Guanlin shoves his hand over his eyes to block out the intruding light and he hears Seonho whine and thrash around in his bunk, commanding the elder man to _"TURN IT OFF."_

 

Jisung ignores their baby wailing and reminds them in a sharp tone, "According to today's schedule, you boys have breakfast duty. So, it'd be in your best interest if you both started getting ready." Having said that, he yanks Seonho's blankets off and the boy outright hisses as if he'd been possessed by a demon; the light hitting his skin physically burning him alive.

 

It's probably the most horrifying sound Guanlin has ever heard his friend make, but it's relatable on many levels because Guanlin is in absolutely no better shape.

 

The second he manages to scrap up the willpower to rise from his bed, Guanlin's knees fold uselessly inwards and he topples straight back onto the ground; promptly deciding that the floor is passably comfortable and snoring into Jisung's bunny slippers. Jisung tsks and nudges at Guanlin with his foot, effectively waking Guanlin up enough to question, _"What time is it?"_ his voice slurring and tired.

 

Each word feels like far too much effort for him to be speaking right now and he almost regrets even asking when he hears Jisung's reply.

 

"5AM."

 

"… And what time did we get back last night?"

 

"1AM."

 

The two boys whimper.

 

It's then that Guanlin starts to reconsider if travelling to America was really worth the pain he'd have to endure, waking up every morning like this. Which it is. But as of right now, every fiber of his body wholeheartedly disagrees. _Especially_ so since Guanlin spent an extra hour awake last night working on his composition and thinking about a particular boy he hopes he'll get to see again…

 

Despite those two things being rather productive (one more than the other), Guanlin ultimately thinks that he's never regretted anything more up until this point. _Which is saying quite a bit._

 

After a few long, unresponsive moments from the pair, Guanlin can almost hear Jisung rolling his eyes when he whispers something about _'youth these days…'_ before digging around in their respective luggage's and tossing each boy their uniform. "You both have ten minutes to get up and change," He says to them.

 

And by some miracle of god, Seonho and Guanlin find themselves up and dressed in that exact amount of time. They're fixing each other's hair and brushing their teeth when Jisung calls for them to _'get a move on!'_

 

"I swear I'm gonna throw his bunny slippers into the ocean," Seonho threats with no real bite.

 

Guanlin hums. "Please don't."

 

With their eyes sunken in and yawning profusely, the two boys reluctantly begin their second day of serving aboard the RMS Titanic.

 

 

 

 

Guanlin works as skillfully as a person riding on three hours of sleep possibly can, which is actually a lot more graceful than what he was expecting.

 

Breakfast is uneventful thanks to Guanlin's never-ending supply of luck, and because of that, he only has to put in the absolute minimum amount of effort into his job this morning. He still tries to wake up the best he can, however; putting on the brightest, most charming smile he could muster and lying to himself that he was fully awake. Emphasis on the 'lying' part. Surprisingly, it all works out anyway because no one questions him when he overfills a teacup one too many times and almost dozes off when someone tells him their order.

 

Things go well, _in a sense._ But after the first hour, his initial resolve crumbles, and tiredness slowly begins to take back over.

 

He trips and stumbles, and every now and then Guanlin sneaks glances to see how Seonho is holding up. He finds that his friend is doing just as poorly as he is, or maybe even worse. And his point is only proven when he watches his friend ram into a wall, glaring at it tiredly, which then prompts Guanlin to nearly bash into a first-class passenger.

 

By 8AM, he catches his said friend facing a wall off in the corner of the dining saloon effectively hidden away behind a large, decorative plant doing God Knows What; and when Guanlin finally manages to get a better angle on the other, he notices that Seonho is pressing a pitcher of freshly brewed coffee into his mouth, chugging it straight from the nozzle and never coming up for air once.

 

Seonho looks like he's going to die, but having little to no functioning brain cells, Guanlin is convinced that whatever he's doing looks like the solution to his problems. So, with that, he walks up to the other who wordlessly hands him over the pitcher.

 

The liquid burns at his throat like fire. And it also tastes like piss. But that comes as no surprise because all coffee tastes mildly horrible to Guanlin, and even though this coffee is brewed a bit more carefully and with finer ingredients than most, it still just tastes like piss to him.

 

He finishes with a dramatic smack of his lips and the two of them stare at the empty pitcher with matching, contemplative expressions.

 

" 'm gonna… pretend I served this all," Seonho mumbles before robotically shoving his way back into the kitchen for a refill.

 

"Sounds… good," Guanlin supposes.

 

Its effect is instantaneous just as much as it is powerful. The coffee hits him like a solid punch to the chest, and Guanlin's heart kick into overdrive; pumping forcefully with the raw, artificial energy that is liquidated caffeine. Although he feels as though he's about to go into cardiac arrest, Guanlin decides that it doesn't matter because _the coffee did its job_.

 

Maybe a bit too well.

 

With coffee running through his veins, Guanlin's hands begin to shake with the tea kettle rattling in his grip. His smile is a bit too extreme and he suddenly has the urge to run laps around the entire saloon. Billions upon billions of ideas zip through his mind in the span of mere seconds _—_ and at this moment, Guanlin really wants to work on his piano piece _—_ but that urge dies the moment his shift is over.

 

Dragging his feet the entire way, Guanlin makes it to his shared quarters with Seonho in tow.

 

He falls right onto his bunk and finally crashes from his caffeine-high. He wants to find a piano to work on, but his limbs dissolve into his mattress and, drowsily, he decides that he'll work on his composition later, falling into a deep, very much needed slumber.

 

Guanlin wakes up sometime a bit later when people are heading back to their quarters to rest and enjoy other activities. Seonho is still asleep by the time he's fully dressed with his composition in hand, so he decides to leave the other a note; ripping off a scrap of loose staff paper and telling him that he'll be back later tonight

 

Quietly stepping out of his quarters, he makes his way up the Titanic's decks, and it's then that Guanlin realizes that this is the first time he's been able to walk the halls as a passenger rather than a worker. He spends a bit of time wandering about and taking in his surroundings from this new perspective. It's exciting.

 

He stands out on the uppermost deck and relishes in his freedom. With the Atlantic air biting at his skin, he runs up to railings and peers over the edge, marveling at how fast this massive ship sails and letting the strong breeze tousle his hair. It's only when he starts to get cold does he walk back indoors.

 

 _Which piano should I use?_ He wonders thoughtfully.

 

With his head hung low, Guanlin wanders his way through the Titanic, recounting the five pianos he's seen aboard this ship. He crosses out the ones in the dining rooms, which leaves him with only two options. _What about the Steinway in the ballroom?_ Guanlin considers. No one should be in there because there is no event being held; and where there's no people, no workers are needed.

 

 _That's his best bet,_ he concludes.

 

Guanlin skillfully navigates his way to the grand ballroom, retracing his steps from when Jisung toured him around. Warily, Guanlin peeks in through the double doors and lo and behold, he's correct. No people are in sight which also means no one should come in and bother him anytime soon _—_ and, _dang_ , was this a magnificent place to play.

 

Once he lets the doors swing behind him, Guanlin whistles in awe and the sound echoes through the halls causing him to flinch in fright. No one is there to hear, however, so he takes his time observing the ornately patterned wooden walls and glass chandeliers. He finally makes his way up to the piano and draws in a tight breath. It's probably the fanciest piano he's ever played _—no—_ seen.

 

The black wood is sleek with no fingerprints or signs of use, and when he touches the lid, he almost feels bad. He takes a cautious seat on the bench, slightly adjusting his position on the squeaky, firm leather before he taps his foot on the pedals. Nervously, he lifts the fallboard which reveals to him pearly, white keys that makes his heart stutter in muted anticipation.

 

Guanlin straightens his posture and clears his throat, resting his fingers onto the keys. Exhaling, he plays a chord that rings throughout the empty ballroom and chimes beautifully through its silence. A shiver runs up his spine.

 

He eagerly steadies his composition on the music rack and promptly gets to work with the time he has.

 

 

 

 

It's only an hour later when Guanlin slams his fingers onto the keys in anger _—_ the sound ripping through the air like an explosion _—_ and he lets his hands fall onto his lap. Defeated. Sighing, his heart sinks straight into his gut _—_ out of ideas yet again, he thinks grimly to himself. It's beyond frustrating, but he shouldn't be surprised at this point. Even with the piano, he still can't come up with anything for his piece and he's tried everything. From different chords, changing scales, and even decreasing and increasing the tempo; nothing seems to be what he's looking for.

 

Guanlin draws in a shaky breath, and automatically, his hands hover over the starting notes to Claude Debussy’s Clair de Lune. Then, he begins to play.

 

It calms him; hearing a completed masterpiece with notes strung together so flawlessly. Guanlin lets the music flow right out of him with his fingers dancing across the keys. He finds peace like this. No interruptions, no pauses to scribble anything down, it's just him now _—_ him and his undying passion for the piano.

 

Guanlin stops thinking and his breath eases. He loses himself in the song and begins to let his mind drift, closing his eyes and _—_

 

"You play beautifully," A voice suddenly speaks up.

 

Guanlin hits all the wrong notes and the sounds makes him jolt in surprise. He whips around, horrified and expecting a world of trouble, but when he catches sight of who is standing in the ballroom with him, his eyes widen.

 

He ceases to breathe.

 

It's the boy _—_ the boy from his first day on the Titanic _—_ the boy he'd been searching for the moment he laid eyes on him, and now he's here, coming to Guanlin instead.

 

He finds himself transfixed _—_ silently awed by the other just as when he saw him sitting in the middle of the dining saloon. He's gorgeous, impossibly even more so in the warm light leaking in through the painted glass windows. Guanlin forgets how to reply, let alone talk in general, and he isn't too sure what his next course of action should be.

 

Nevertheless, his heart skips and lodges itself right in the center of his throat. "Uh…"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s only the second day aboard, but Jihoon is completely over this entire trip.

 

To begin with, he ended up heading back to the room early on the first night, due to some seasickness he found himself experiencing. He claimed it was only minor, but throughout the night, he had rushed to the bathroom several times to empty out his stomach’s contents. To make matters worse, Daniel would come to his aid every time, and while Jihoon understood that he was only trying to help, he just wanted to push him away.

 

Jihoon makes a note to himself to eat lots during the trip so he doesn’t have the same issue again.

 

When he wakes again in the morning, Daniel has his arm around him, and Jihoon frowns. He tries to pluck it off of him as delicately as he can so that he doesn’t wake the older, but Daniel stirs, and Jihoon frowns. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

 

He looks like hell, Jihoon thinks. There are dark circles under his eyes, easily giving away his difficulty sleeping the previous night, and his skin is so pale white, he looks sick. His stomach growls, and it makes him even more eager to get something to eat.

 

Quickly, he washes up, splashing some water on to his face and patting it dry with a towel before heading back into the room. As expected, Daniel is awake now, though he hasn’t moved much. He’s leaning against the headboard looking dazed and confused, but as soon as he sees Jihoon, a dumb smile spreads over his lips. “Hey,” he says groggily, rubbing his eyes.

 

Jihoon tosses his towel at him. “Don’t rub your eyes, they’ll get swollen.” He then goes to their wardrobe and picks out an outfit for the day; in the background, Daniel chuckles deeply.

 

“Aw, are you actually worried about me for once?” Daniel quips, and Jihoon rolls his eyes, a small smile spreading over his lips too. This… He’s missed this. Playful banter between the two of them that he had grown familiar with in his youth. Now… That side of Daniel only appears every so often, as Jihoon finds that he’s too busy trying to court him to even be himself anymore.

 

“You wish,” Jihoon finally responds, shaking his head as he lays his outfit out on the mattress. “Now get up so I can make the bed. My parents are probably already waiting for us to join them for breakfast too _—_ ”

 

Just then, Daniel snakes an arm around his waist, leans his head against his side, and Jihoon automatically stiffens. Cuddling at night is different, but this kind of intimacy… It feels like too much for Jihoon. He squirms before shuffling to push Daniel away, eyes wide in surprise.

 

Daniel, on the other hand, looks surprised too, but then he just looks apologetic, staring down awkwardly at the sheets and scratching at the back of his neck. “S-sorry.”

 

“I-It’s fine _—_ ” Jihoon stutters back, gathering his clothes, and turning his back to Daniel. He’d feel safer changing alone in the bathroom, but he brings himself to strip off his nightwear anyways, getting dressed right in front of the other. And it’s not like Daniel stares, but he can still feel his eyes on him every now and then. Those mere seconds feel like eternities, and Jihoon feels like holes are being burned into him with each gaze; he feels like he’s on display, like he’s exposed, and he _hates_ it. Daniel has seen him like this before, but Jihoon still cannot stand it. He’s not sure that he can do this for the rest of his life.

 

When he’s done, he folds his things, sighing softly. “Seriously, get ready. We have to go.”

 

Daniel nods sullenly, then finally gets out of bed.

 

 

 

 

 

Jihoon doesn’t blame himself for getting lost on his way to the dining saloon again; after all, it’s still only the second day aboard. But he’s too stubborn to ask for help, and it’s only when Daniel asks a kind passerby for directions that they finally find themselves entering the hall, meeting his parents at the exact same table they had been seated at yesterday for tea. Jihoon wonders if the table has their name on it somewhere.

 

“Ah, you’re finally here,” his mother greets them when she sees them. Jihoon lets Daniel lead him to his seat, even though his skin crawls with his touch.

 

“Daniel didn’t want to get out of bed,” Jihoon tries, but of course, it does no good. Daniel is an angel in his parents’ eyes.

 

“That’s fine,” his mother says, shaking her head. “We weren’t waiting long, after all.” But that’s a lie; he sees the almost finished breakfast that’s sitting in front of her, and plenty of other passengers are just about done with their meals too. Jihoon sighs softly, sitting up in his seat.

 

“Are we still allowed to order? I’m hungry,” Jihoon says. His father then calls over one of the waiters and asks him to bring more food. He watches as the man nods in understanding, then scurries off to do as he’s been ordered.

 

“I feel bad, coming down so late,” Daniel says sheepishly, looking somewhat embarrassed.

 

“It’s alright,” his father says as he wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin. “After all, it’s these people’s jobs to serve us anyways. Not like they have anything better to do today.”

 

At that, Jihoon frowns a little. His eyes shift to one of the other waiters in the room, and while he looks quite happy as he helps a passenger, Jihoon can’t help but wonder if the smile is fake, if he’s truly happy like this. Even a servant deserves to enjoy a trip like this, he thinks. Perhaps the waiter would even enjoy the trip more than he is right now.

 

“I guess you’re right,” Daniel shrugs, and Jihoon’s frown only grows. He quickly puts on a poker face however, so he doesn’t have to hear it from his mother again.

 

“Well,” she begins, finishing off her tea and then neatly folding her napkin, setting it on the table. “Since we’re finished here, we ought to get going. The two of you, take your time, okay? And enjoy yourselves today. I’m sure you'll find lots to do.”

 

With that, both of his parents bid their farewells (but not before his father calls over yet another poor waiter, making him clean off their table until it’s almost spotless for Daniel and Jihoon, yet another gesture that leaves a sour taste in Jihoon’s mouth. He waves goodbye to his parents, and immediately finds himself staring at the center of the table.

 

“Something the matter?” Daniel asks beside him. His tone is soft, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood a little. Jihoon finally looks up at him, frowning.

 

“How could you just agree with him like that?” Jihoon huffs. He’s sure he looks a little childish like this, but he can’t help it, too angry to care.

 

Daniel blinks, flustered and uncertain. “Huh? What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, I’m hungry too, but I’m sure that even waiters don’t want to be here all day serving people like us. We aren’t anymore special than they are.”

 

And then, Daniel creases his brow, tilting his head. He really doesn’t get it, Jihoon is certain. He pinches the bridge of his nose; has his friend always been this dense?

 

“Maybe not, but we’re the ones with the money, aren’t we? Maybe if they could afford it, they’d be enjoying their time on the ship instead of working the entire time, but _—_ ”

 

Daniel stops there, because he can see the absolute appalment on Jihoon’s face at his words. Jihoon exhales; how could Daniel be this clueless? He shakes his head before sighing, leaning his elbow on the table and then resting his face in his hand. It’s bad manners, but Jihoon doesn’t care. “You know what? Never mind… Let’s just eat, then.”

 

Daniel, however, still looks confused. “Jihoon-ah, what’s wrong?”

 

“Just drop it.”

 

His tone is so sharp that it startles Daniel, but at least he no longer pushes the subject. Jihoon is grateful for that much, and when the food finally does come, they eat in an awkward silence. Jihoon is somewhat sorry for bringing it about, but it’s whatever, he decides, as he stuffs delicious food down his throat. He should personally thank the chef, he thinks. Maybe one of these days, he thinks. For now, he just eats until he’s full, and he can’t eat anymore. He just hopes he doesn’t get seasick from eating _too_ much, as opposed to eating _too little,_ like last time.

 

“What do you want to do today?” Daniel asks once he’s done as well. “We could visit the gym, go catch a show on board, I’m sure there’s a lot of other events happening too…”

 

Jihoon blinks up at him, pondering for a bit. Truthfully, he just wants to lock himself in his room for the rest of the day, but he knows that if his parents were to find out about it, his punishment would be far worse than having to spend the entire trip with Daniel (Jihoon’s not really sure what could be worse than that, but he’d rather not find out).

 

“Mmmm, maybe we could just explore the promenade deck and relax..? I don’t feel like doing much today…”

 

Daniel nods a little before bringing himself to stand, and before Jihoon can stand himself, he offers his hand, like a gentleman. Jihoon purses his lips with uncertainty, but his own guilty conscious brings him to take his hand anyways, allowing Daniel to hold it as the exit the saloon, making their way to the promenade deck.

 

He half expects the promenade deck to be bustling with activity when they arrive, but it’s actually quite the opposite, he finds. Instead, it’s rather quiet, only a few older passengers walking about, carrying out small conversations with each other. Jihoon is grateful; perhaps he could just relax with no worries after all.

 

What really catches his attention, however, is the view of the ocean just outside the deck’s windows. He immediately goes to stand by it, looking outside in awe. The ocean is so blue and bright, the waters so calm and steady. The waves are rhythmic and relaxing, Jihoon wonders what it would be like to swim amongst them.

 

There’s no land in sight. He wonders how many miles they’ve traveled since departure, how many miles are left on their trip. All that he can see is ocean blue waves and cloudless skies; the sight is breathtaking, really, and Jihoon easily finds himself becoming immersed with the sight.

 

And then it happens again.

 

Soon, there are arms finding themselves around Jihoon’s waist, locking into place. Daniel then rests his chin upon his shoulder and buries his face into his neck, and the younger boy stiffens uncomfortably, angrily. The waves seem to become a little violent too, as Jihoon shuts his eyes and sucks in a deep breath.

 

“Stop doing that.”

 

Behind him, Daniel furrows his brow and loosens his grip, staring at Jihoon in confusion. “Stop doing what?”

 

“Touching me without asking. Wrapping your arms around me, _holding my hand..._ It makes me uncomfortable, I don’t like it,” he says firmly, spinning around and freeing himself completely from his grasp. His hands are balled up before he brings himself to loosen them, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

 

Though Daniel is sweet, Jihoon knows he has his limits too, and soon, a sour look appears on his face too. He frowns and shrugs. “What do you want me to do then? Am I not supposed to treat you like you’re my fiancé? Should I just treat you coldly, is that what you want?”

 

“I don’t even _want_ you to be my fiancé, Daniel, you know that!” Jihoon suddenly explodes, disrupting whatever tranquil atmosphere had been present on the deck. Still, he’s not done, hasn’t said even half of what he’s wanted to say. “You’re my best friend, and you’re important to me, but you _know_ that I have never wanted this. That all of this is for my parents, not me. I thought you’d realize that by now.”

 

“Well what do you want me to do about it? Make an ass of myself in front of your parents? Treat you like trash?” Daniel responds, throwing his arms in the air in his exasperation. “This isn’t easy for me either, you know!”

 

“Why can’t you just respect my feelings?!” Jihoon yells back.

 

“Because you’re _mine,_ and you need to start acting like it!”

 

And then it’s silent. Jihoon’s face goes blank, and Daniel’s own reaction tells him that he knows he’s messed up.

 

If there’s anything Jihoon hates the most, it’s the idea of being _owned._ Of not being his own person, having to be stuck in this vision of what people want from him, and not what he wants for himself. This entire arranged marriage is definitely pushing it, but there had always been some sliver of hope that maybe… _just_ maybe, that because this is Daniel, his best friend, he would still be able to maintain some part of himself. But Daniel has just proved him wrong.

 

“Jihoon… I didn’t mean…” Daniel tries, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but Jihoon swats it away.

 

He wants to respond, but he’s afraid of what he might say in his anger. So instead, he just turns on his heel and walks away. Forget what his parents will say to him for leaving Daniel, he doesn’t want to be around him right now. He needs his own space, space to just be alone, to think…

 

So Jihoon keeps walking; he passes by so many faces, so many unfamiliar people that would otherwise make him anxious and somewhat frightened, but right now, he doesn’t care. He just needs to get away, somewhere his parents won’t find him, and somewhere Daniel definitely won’t either.

 

He doesn’t expect to find himself in front of the ballroom, however, it’s grand doors intimidating as he stands in front of it, out of breath from all the walking he’s just done.

 

It takes a moment for him to recover, breathing just a little bit faster than normal before a sweet melody reaches his ears. The sound definitely belongs to a piano, and it’s coming from just beyond the doors leading into the ballroom. Isn’t it a little too early for any events to be taking place here?

 

Jihoon then notices that the door is cracked open just a bit, and curiously, he peeks through it, trying to get a glimpse of what could possibly be happening beyond the doors.

 

It’s hard to see, but Jihoon makes out a piano through the crack, and a rather slim, tall-looking figure seated at it, fingers dancing over the keys as the same melody fills the room.

 

Both the sound and sight are hypnotizing. By now, thoughts of Daniel have practically been pushed aside as Jihoon slowly and silently pushes the door open. The image of the person sitting at the piano suddenly becomes clearer and _—wow. How breathtaking,_ Jihoon thinks.

 

Though the music is beautiful too, Jihoon can’t help but to admire the man at the piano as well. He’s not really a man, Jihoon thinks, because he looks rather young, possibly even younger than himself. But he’s tall, and Jihoon wonders if he’d be taller than him were he to stand. His hair is an inky black, and while it is messy and unkempt, it falls so delicately around his face, framing his features perfectly. His skin looks smooth and soft, pale and pretty, and the slope of his nose is almost perfect. His lashes are long as they flutter against his cheek, and his hands… Jihoon watches them _dance_ over the piano keys in the most graceful manner that Jihoon has ever seen.

 

Jihoon feels his heart race as he nears the boy, and he’s surprised to find that, despite his close distance, the boy still hasn’t noticed him, so immersed in his song. He can’t help but to smile at this as he continues to near, his eyes flickering from the boy’s face and back to his hands, watching as long and beautiful fingers flatten each key, rhythmically and perfectly.

 

“You play beautifully,” Jihoon finally says, and he almost regrets it, because the boy stops playing so abruptly, and Jihoon wants to hear more. But then his eyes finally meet his, and Jihoon feels his heart skip in his chest.

 

The boy’s eyes are so large and full, and though they are a dark shade of brown, they swim with so much light and depth that Jihoon is immediately captivated. The shock is apparent on his face, but Jihoon thinks it looks cute, and he can’t help but to chuckle at his expression.

 

“Uh…” the boy drawls, and Jihoon shakes his head, letting out another soft laugh. He’s never this bold, really, so sheltered that he had often found interactions with strangers difficult, but he somehow finds it easy to sit beside the other boy, who hesitantly makes room for him on the bench.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, I was just… I admire your talent,” Jihoon says sheepishly, grinning up at the other. He still doesn’t say anything back, however, and Jihoon begins to wonder if he really even speaks at all.

 

“Hey, can you understand me..?” he asks suddenly, tilting his head.

 

As if in a trance, the boy shakes his head and swallows, then nods abruptly, his hand flying to the back of his neck as he rubs it shyly. “Ah, yeah, I just _—_! Sorry, yeah, you just surprised me, that’s all…”

 

Jihoon stares as the boy blushes, and then he laughs, looking down at his lap. “I see… Well I’m sorry. I’m probably bothering you, then. I can leave if you like?”

 

The boy shakes his head; he looks reluctant to meet his eyes, but he does anyways, shyly looking up at Jihoon. “No, it’s okay, really. I’d like for you to stay.”

 

At his words, Jihoon’s eyes light up with happiness, and he sits up straight, grinning brightly. “Can you play another song for me? Is that okay for me to ask?”

 

The boy blinks, but then a small smile spreads over his lips. Jihoon watches in excitement as his pretty hands flutter over the piano again. He pauses for a moment, as if he’s debating on what to play. Then, he brings his fingers to press down the keys, and the result is magical.

 

Jihoon really has never heard a lovelier sound that this. The song is familiar, but the way that this stranger plays is so moving that Jihoon feels his heart lurching in his chest, swelling with emotion. He watches him as he plays, how his fingers glide over the keys, swiftly and gracefully. Jihoon wonders if he’s even touching the piano, with how delicate each movement is.

 

And then he looks up at the other again. He really is beautiful, Jihoon thinks. He’s youthful in appearance, but there’s a certain maturity about him that he can’t quite place. His gaze is soft, and as he feels his cheeks growing hot, he brings himself to look away, closing his eyes as he enjoys the final moments of his song.

 

Jihoon lets the moment sink in a little longer before he opens his eyes again, looking over at the other male. He’s looking at him expectantly, like he’s awaiting feedback, some kind of response, and Jihoon just grins brightly.

 

“That was amazing…” he says. “Oh _—_! I’m Jihoon, by the way. It’s really nice to meet you.”

 

He then extends his hand, and watches as the other stares for a moment before taking it into his. His grip is gentle, just as he had expected it to be, and his hands are smooth, much bigger than Jihoon’s.

 

“My name is Guanlin… It’s nice to meet you too.”

 

Jihoon smiles happily before putting his hands in his lap. He feels at ease now, all prior worries practically dissipated as he playfully kicks his feet, the bottoms of his shoes just barely grazing the ground below.

 

“Guanlin… So who taught you how to play the piano?” he asks.

 

Guanlin chuckles, and he shyly looks away again, scratching his cheek. “Ah, I taught myself.”

 

At that, Jihoon gasps. Friends his age had never been able to learn on their own, most of them had teachers that would come over and teach them after they had completed their studies. Even Jihoon had tried at one point, but soon convinced his parents that he wasn’t any good, and had cancelled the lessons shortly after. To learn that Guanlin is self taught… It’s practically unheard of, Jihoon thinks.

 

“That’s… You play so beautifully...” Jihoon trails off.

 

“Ah, thank you so much,” Guanlin smiles, and his smile is just as beautiful as everything else about him. His gums peak out just a bit, making him look youthful and pure.

 

And then, Guanlin is suddenly straightening up, as if he’s come to some kind of realization. “Ah, what time is it? I really have to get going...”

 

Jihoon frowns a little at this. He had really been hoping he could spend a little more time with Guanlin, get to know him a little better. But he’s grateful, at least. Guanlin’s lifted his mood immensely, and while he’s sure to get an earful from his mother, will definitely have to deal with a sulky, apologetic Daniel too, it’ll be worth it, he thinks. Guanlin’s given him the strength to endure all of that.

 

“Ah, really? That’s a shame, I was hoping I could hear more…” Jihoon sighs as Guanlin collects his things, tucking them under his arms as he stands, preparing to leave. “Will I at least see you again?”

 

Guanlin stops abruptly, his eyes wide as he gazes at Jihoon. Then, his entire expression goes soft, his smile appearing once more as he nods. “I’d really like that. It was nice meeting you, Jihoon. Take care.”

 

And with that, Guanlin disappears. Jihoon watches him leave, closing the ballroom doors behind him.

 

Still, even long after the boy leaves, Jihoon remains seated at the piano, his heart still fluttering in his chest. He glances down at the piano as he imagines Guanlin’s hands, fingers producing every note. He smiles to himself as he closes the lid of the piano, and finally brings himself to leave as well.

 

Perhaps this journey would not be so bad, after all.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penny: DID U WANNA POST THIS NOW :’DD  
> Caelin: YHES I THINK WE ARE GOOD TO GO ??  
> Penny: OKAY :’D do u want me to post it again?  
> Penny: Did u want to write any authors notes LOL  
> Caelin: WHeeHEA DRESF I M SORRY I WAS REREADING THROUGH AND U SUDDENLY HIGHLIGHTED EVERYTHING AND I PANICKED FOR A SECOND LAMO FOPDSF  
> Penny: LMAOOOOOOOO SKLDFESIGJHSIDLFSEFKHSUDKFLSKISKLJDF IMS ORRY  
> IM COPYING IT  
> Caelin: ITS OK I FIGURED HAHAHA  
> Caelin: hmmmm i don’t really have anything to say for author’s notes except maybe sorry for prolonging the update because im so lazy hA  
> Penny: LKDJFOISEDFJSDOIGJSHDFOISDJF honestly i dont really have anything to say too lkasdjfhgklsdfhgklsf we can just put “uwu”  
> Caelin: let’s just copy and paste this entire conversation  
> Caelin: like  
> Caelin: with no context and just  
> Penny: LMAOOOOOOOOOO IM DOWN FOR IT LOLLLLLLL DO U WANNA IMDEAD  
> Caelin: d oIT


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